


i've got vices, now

by Tood Bootsman (KittooningMalijah)



Series: i'm a (good) kid [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Pre series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/Tood%20Bootsman
Summary: Maybe things were a little easier when he didn't have thousands of eyes on him, when his life belonged to him and no one else, but that didn't mean he couldn't have some control over what he did with it.





	i've got vices, now

          Performing always gave him a sort of high, made his brain buzz like he'd had just one drink too many, blurred reality until the music was the only thing keeping his heart beating. It was a silly way of looking at it, but there wasn't any other way  _to_ look at it - especially when the bass timed up with his heartbeat, the lyrics from the next band's set made his head spin, the crowd around him moved with the drums' beat. It was  _magical_.

          Todd could never quite tell if he was drunk on the alcohol or the rush, not that he ever cared enough to stop and think about it. For him, the cause of his happiness was always far less important than the fact of its existence. He was happy, and  _that_ was what mattered, not the lengths he'd gone to in order to get there.

          Besides, to get there, the path had to be littered with lies and hurt and self-hatred and selfish tendencies. He had to trade out pieces of himself. There wasn't any part of himself that was  _really_ his, not anymore.

          The guitar and the cigarettes had shared custody of his fingers, passing them back and forth between the two things that actually made his mind be quiet. His lungs belonged to whatever songs made it onto the setlist at each gig. He couldn't even claim ownership of his skin when he ended up in bed with someone new each night, desperately clinging to the pieces of himself he could still grasp like hotel sheets. Each distraction held onto a different part of him - sex controlled his body, drugs excited his nerves, and the alcohol kept his mind hostage.

          Music, somehow, gripped him tighter while setting him free. It told the truth when he couldn't, when even he started believing the lies he told, and, despite the ache it caused, Todd clung to it just as tightly.


End file.
